THE DUCHESS TAKES COUNSEL.
Phineas Finn, when he had been thrice remanded before the Bow Street
magistrate, and four times examined, was at last committed to be
tried for the murder of Mr. Bonteen. This took place on Wednesday,
May 19th, a fortnight after the murder. But during those fourteen
days little was learned, or even surmised, by the police, in addition
to the circumstances which had transpired at once. Indeed the delay,
slight as it was, had arisen from a desire to find evidence that
might affect Mr. Emilius, rather than with a view to strengthen that
which did affect Phineas Finn. But no circumstance could be found
tending in any way to add to the suspicion to which the converted Jew
was made subject by his own character, and by the supposition that
he would have been glad to get rid of Mr. Bonteen. He did not even
attempt to run away,--for which attempt certain pseudo-facilities
were put in his way by police ingenuity. But Mr. Emilius stood his
ground and courted inquiry. Mr. Bonteen had been to him, he said, a
very bitter, unjust, and cruel enemy. Mr. Bonteen had endeavoured to
rob him of his dearest wife;--had charged him with bigamy;--had got
up false evidence in the hope of ruining him. He had undoubtedly
hated Mr. Bonteen, and might probably have said so. But, as it
happened, through God's mercy, he was enabled to prove that he could
not possibly have been at the scene of the murder when the murder was
committed. During that hour of the night he had been in his own bed;
and, had he been out, could not have re-entered the house without
calling up the inmates. But, independently of his alibi, Mealyus was
able to rely on the absolute absence of any evidence against him.
No grey coat could be traced to his hands, even for an hour. His
height was very much less than that attributed by Lord Fawn to the
man whom he had seen hurrying to the spot. No weapon was found in his
possession by which the deed could have been done. Inquiry was made
as to the purchase of life-preservers, and the reverend gentleman was
taken to half-a-dozen shops at which such instruments had lately been
sold. But there had been a run upon life-preservers, in consequence
of recommendations as to their use given by certain newspapers;--and
it was found as impossible to trace one particular purchase as it
would be that of a loaf of bread. At none of the half-dozen shops to
which he was taken was Mr. Emilius remembered; and then all further
inquiry in that direction was abandoned, and Mr. Emilius was set at
liberty. "I forgive my persecutors from the bottom of my heart," he
said,--"but God will requite it to them."
In the meantime Phineas was taken to Newgate, and was there confined,
almost with the glory and attendance of a State prisoner. This was no
common murder, and no common murderer. Nor were they who interested
themselves in the matter the ordinary rag, tag, and bobtail of the
people,--the mere wives and children, or perhaps fathers and mothers,
or brothers and sisters of the slayer or the slain. Dukes and Earls,
Duchesses and Countesses, Members of the Cabinet, great statesmen,
Judges, Bishops, and Queen's Counsellors, beautiful women, and
women of highest fashion, seemed for a while to think of but little
else than the fate of Mr. Bonteen and the fate of Phineas Finn.
People became intimately acquainted with each other through similar
sympathies in this matter, who had never before spoken to or seen
each other. On the day after the full committal of the man, Mr. Low
received a most courteous letter from the Duchess of Omnium, begging
him to call in Carlton Terrace if his engagements would permit him
to do so. The Duchess had heard that Mr. Low was devoting all his
energies to the protection of Phineas Finn; and, as a certain friend
of hers,--a lady,--was doing the same, she was anxious to bring them
together. Indeed, she herself was equally prepared to devote her
energies for the present to the same object. She had declared to
all her friends,--especially to her husband and to the Duke of St.
Bungay,--her absolute conviction of the innocence of the accused man,
and had called upon them to defend him. "My dear," said the elder
Duke, "I do not think that in my time any innocent man has ever lost
his life upon the scaffold."
"Is that a reason why our friend should be the first instance?" said
the Duchess.
"He must be tried according to the laws of his country," said the
younger Duke.
"Plantagenet, you always speak as if everything were perfect, whereas
you know very well that everything is imperfect. If that man is--is
hung, I--"
"Glencora," said her husband, "do not connect yourself with the fate
of a stranger from any misdirected enthusiasm."
"I do connect myself. If that man be hung--I shall go into mourning
for him. You had better look to it."
Mr. Low obeyed the summons, and called on the Duchess. But, in truth,
the invitation had been planned by Madame Goesler, who was present
when the lawyer, about five o'clock in the afternoon, was shown into
the presence of the Duchess. Tea was immediately ordered, and Mr. Low
was almost embraced. He was introduced to Madame Goesler, of whom he
did not before remember that he had heard the name, and was at once
given to understand that the fate of Phineas was now in question. "We
know so well," said the Duchess, "how true you are to him."
"He is an old friend of mine," said the lawyer, "and I cannot believe
him to have been guilty of a murder."
"Guilty!--he is no more guilty than I am. We are as sure of that as
we are of the sun. We know that he is innocent;--do we not, Madame
Goesler? And we, too, are very dear friends of his;--that is, I am."
"And so am I," said Madame Goesler, in a voice very low and sweet,
but yet so energetic as to make Mr. Low almost rivet his attention
upon her.
"You must understand, Mr. Low, that Mr. Finn is a man horribly hated
by certain enemies. That wretched Mr. Bonteen hated his very name.
But there are other people who think very differently of him. He must
be saved."
"Indeed I hope he may," said Mr. Low.
"We wanted to see you for ever so many reasons. Of course you
understand that--that any sum of money can be spent that the case may
want."
"Nothing will be spared on that account certainly," said the lawyer.
"But money will do a great many things. We would send all round
the world if we could get evidence against that other man,--Lady
Eustace's husband, you know."
"Can any good be done by sending all round the world?"
"He went back to his own home not long ago,--in Poland, I think,"
said Madame Goesler. "Perhaps he got the instrument there, and
brought it with him." Mr. Low shook his head. "Of course we are very
ignorant;--but it would be a pity that everything should not be
tried."
"He might have got in and out of the window, you know," said the
Duchess. Still Mr. Low shook his head. "I believe things can always
be found out, if only you take trouble enough. And trouble means
money;--does it not? We wouldn't mind how many thousand pounds it
cost; would we, Marie?"
"I fear that the spending of thousands can do no good," said Mr. Low.
"But something must be done. You don't mean to say that Mr. Finn is
to be hung because Lord Fawn says that he saw a man running along the
street in a grey coat."
"Certainly not."
"There is nothing else against him;--nobody else saw him."
"If there be nothing else against him he will be acquitted."
"You think then," said Madame Goesler, "that there will be no use in
tracing what the man Mealyus did when he was out of England. He might
have bought a grey coat then, and have hidden it till this night,
and then have thrown it away." Mr. Low listened to her with close
attention, but again shook his head. "If it could be shown that the
man had a grey coat at that time it would certainly weaken the effect
of Mr. Finn's grey coat."
"And if he bought a bludgeon there, it would weaken the effect of
Mr. Finn's bludgeon. And if he bought rope to make a ladder it would
show that he had got out. It was a dark night, you know, and nobody
would have seen it. We have been talking it all over, Mr. Low, and we
really think you ought to send somebody."
"I will mention what you say to the gentlemen who are employed on Mr.
Finn's defence."
"But will not you be employed?" Then Mr. Low explained that the
gentlemen to whom he referred were the attorneys who would get up the
case on their friend's behalf, and that as he himself practised in
the Courts of Equity only, he could not defend Mr. Finn on his trial.
"He must have the very best men," said the Duchess.
"He must have good men, certainly."
"And a great many. Couldn't we get Sir Gregory Grogram?" Mr. Low
shook his head. "I know very well that if you get men who are
really,--really swells, for that is what it is, Mr. Low,--and pay
them well enough, and so make it really an important thing, they
can browbeat any judge and hoodwink any jury. I daresay it is very
dreadful to say so, Mr. Low; but, nevertheless, I believe it, and as
this man is certainly innocent it ought to be done. I daresay it's
very shocking, but I do think that twenty thousand pounds spent among
the lawyers would get him off."
"I hope we can get him off without expending twenty thousand pounds,
Duchess."
"But you can have the money and welcome;--cannot he, Madame Goesler?"
"He could have double that, if double were necessary."
"I would fill the court with lawyers for him," continued the Duchess.
"I would cross-examine the witnesses off their legs. I would rake
up every wicked thing that horrid Jew has done since he was born.
I would make witnesses speak. I would give a carriage and pair of
horses to every one of the jurors' wives, if that would do any good.
You may shake your head, Mr. Low; but I would. And I'd carry Lord
Fawn off to the Antipodes, too;--and I shouldn't care if you left him
there. I know that this man is innocent, and I'd do anything to save
him. A woman, I know, can't do much;--but she has this privilege,
that she can speak out what men only think. I'd give them two
carriages and two pairs of horses a-piece if I could do it that way."
Mr. Low did his best to explain to the Duchess that the desired
object could hardly be effected after the fashion she proposed, and
he endeavoured to persuade her that justice was sure to be done in
an English court of law. "Then why are people so very anxious to get
this lawyer or that to bamboozle the witnesses?" said the Duchess.
Mr. Low declared it to be his opinion that the poorest man in England
was not more likely to be hung for a murder he had not committed than
the richest. "Then why would you, if you were accused, have ever so
many lawyers to defend you?" Mr. Low went on to explain. "The more
money you spend," said the Duchess, "the more fuss you make. And the
longer a trial is about and the greater the interest, the more chance
a man has to escape. If a man is tried for three days you always
think he'll get off, but if it lasts ten minutes he is sure to be
convicted and hung. I'd have Mr. Finn's trial made so long that they
never could convict him. I'd tire out all the judges and juries in
London. If you get lawyers enough they may speak for ever." Mr.
Low endeavoured to explain that this might prejudice the prisoner.
"And I'd examine every member of the House of Commons, and all the
Cabinet, and all their wives. I'd ask them all what Mr. Bonteen
had been saying. I'd do it in such a way as a trial was never done
before;--and I'd take care that they should know what was coming."
"And if he were convicted afterwards?"
"I'd buy up the Home Secretary. It's very horrid to say so, of
course, Mr. Low; and I dare say there is nothing wrong ever done in
Chancery. But I know what Cabinet Ministers are. If they could get a
majority by granting a pardon they'd do it quick enough."
"You are speaking of a liberal Government, of course, Duchess."
"There isn't twopence to choose between them in that respect. Just
at this moment I believe Mr. Finn is the most popular member of the
House of Commons; and I'd bring all that to bear. You can't but know
that if everything of that kind is done it will have an effect. I
believe you could make him so popular that the people would pull down
the prison rather than have him hung;--so that a jury would not dare
to say he was guilty."
"Would that be justice, ladies?" asked the just man.
"It would be success, Mr. Low,--which is a great deal the better
thing of the two."
"If Mr. Finn were found guilty, I could not in my heart believe that
that would be justice," said Madame Goesler.
Mr. Low did his best to make them understand that the plan of pulling
down Newgate by the instrumentality of Phineas Finn's popularity,
or of buying up the Home Secretary by threats of Parliamentary
defection, would hardly answer their purpose. He would, he assured
them, suggest to the attorneys employed the idea of searching for
evidence against the man Mealyus in his own country, and would
certainly take care that nothing was omitted from want of means. "You
had better let us put a cheque in your hands," said the Duchess. But
to this he would not assent. He did admit that it would be well to
leave no stone unturned, and that the turning of such stones must
cost money;--but the money, he said, would be forthcoming. "He's not
a rich man himself," said the Duchess. Mr. Low assured her that if
money were really wanting he would ask for it. "And now," said the
Duchess, "there is one other thing that we want. Can we see him?"
"You, yourself?"
"Yes;--I myself, and Madame Goesler. You look as if it would be very
wicked." Mr. Low thought that it would be wicked;--that the Duke
would not like it; and that such a visit would occasion ill-natured
remarks. "People do visit him, I suppose. He's not locked up like a
criminal."
"I visit him," said Mr. Low, "and one or two other friends have done
so. Lord Chiltern has been with him, and Mr. Erle."
"Has no lady seen him?" asked the Duchess.
"Not to my knowledge."
"Then it's time some lady should do so. I suppose we could be
admitted. If we were his sisters they'd let us in."
"You must excuse me, Duchess, but--"
"Of course I will excuse you. But what?"
"You are not his sisters."
"If I were engaged to him, to be his wife?--" said Madame Goesler,
standing up. "I am not so. There is nothing of that kind. You must
not misunderstand me. But if I were?"
"On that plea I presume you could be admitted."
"Why not as a friend? Lord Chiltern is admitted as his friend."
"Because of the prudery of a prison," said the Duchess. "All things
are wrong to the lookers after wickedness, my dear. If it would
comfort him to see us, why should he not have that comfort?"
"Would you have gone to him in his own lodgings?" asked Mr. Low.
"I would,--if he'd been ill," said Madame Goesler.
"Madam," said Mr. Low, speaking with a gravity which for a moment had
its effect even upon the Duchess of Omnium, "I think, at any rate,
that if you visit Mr. Finn in prison, you should do so through the
instrumentality of his Grace, your husband."
"Of course you suspect me of all manner of evil."
"I suspect nothing;--but I am sure that it should be so."
"It shall be so," said the Duchess. "Thank you, sir. We are much
obliged to you for your wise counsel."
"I am obliged to you," said Madame Goesler, "because I know that you
have his safety at heart."
"And so am I," said the Duchess, relenting, and giving him her
hand. "We are really ever so much obliged to you. You don't quite
understand about the Duke; and how should you? I never do anything
without telling him, but he hasn't time to attend to things."
"I hope I have not offended you."
"Oh dear, no. You can't offend me unless you mean it. Good-bye,--and
remember to have a great many lawyers, and all with new wigs; and let
them all get in a great rage that anybody should suppose it possible
that Mr. Finn is a murderer. I'm sure I am. Good-bye, Mr. Low."
"You'll never be able to get to him," said the Duchess, as soon as
they were alone.
"I suppose not."
"And what good could you do? Of course I'd go with you if we could
get in;--but what would be the use?"
"To let him know that people do not think him guilty."
"Mr. Low will tell him that. I suppose, too, we can write to him.
Would you mind writing?"
"I would rather go."
"You might as well tell the truth when you are about it. You are
breaking your heart for him."
"If he were to be condemned, and--executed, I should break my heart.
I could never appear bright before the world again."
"That is just what I told Plantagenet. I said I would go into
mourning."
"And I should really mourn. And yet were he free to-morrow he would
be no more to me than any other friend."
"Do you mean you would not marry him?"
"No;--I would not. Nor would he ask me. I will tell you what will be
his lot in life,--if he escapes from the present danger."
"Of course he will escape. They don't really hang innocent men."
"Then he will become the husband of Lady Laura Kennedy."
"Poor fellow! If I believed that, I should think it cruel to help him
escape from Newgate."